Death, Cremation and Emotion
by Baby Lawless
Summary: (summary inside) This story is a re-write of the film, featuring a female lead and a vastly different story, though it follows the same outline of the original film.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Though... if I /could/ own my own Brad Dourif I'd be the happiest girl in the world.

A/N: This is an AU from the original canon, featuring a female rather than male lead... to fit my own sick fucking desires. You're welcome.

Summary: Jenna is just barely 17, but age doesn't always coincide with physical development, and thanks to her very adult appearance, she's faced endless amounts of ridicule and torture from her classmates. Add to that, the fact that she dresses like the 80's never ended, and it's a recipe for Hell. After a failed suicide attempt, Jenna's mother suggest that she get a job, or start dating, to give her some sort of purpose. With no real interest in dating, Jenna goes in search of a job, not finding much in their tiny California town, but when she happens across the local crematorium, her morbid nature won't let her pass it up. Stanley is reluctant to hire the girl on, but he sees the smallest spark of himself when he looks into her crystalline blue eyes, and agrees to hire her on a trial basis. Things progress far beyond what either of them expected.

~O~

Jenna sat in the passenger's seat of the car, watching the rain streak the window. She was going home. The bandages on her wrists were taken off, the stitches removed, now she was left with two garish scars to prove that she couldn't even kill herself without fucking up. It had been two months, two months since she'd broken her bedroom window and slashed her wrists open. Mom wasn't supposed to come home. She was supposed to be working late, but she did. Martha had been in a complete panic, but not as much as Jenna was when she opened her eyes and saw the inside of a hospital room.

The two months in the psyche ward had been hell on entirely different levels than what she faced outside of those walls. She'd had a horrible allergic reaction to the first two medications they tried on her. They wouldn't give her a nicotine patch or inhaler. And she was lumped in with all of the other children her age, who she had nothing in common with. As they went on, talking about whatever hip-hop, ipod bullshit was in their lives. Jenna just missed her record player and stack upon stack of vinyl.

One of the boys had cornered her in the rec room one night, and shoved his hand down her pants. She'd broken his nose, but even though they had video surveillance of the whole thing happening, she still got in trouble because she hit it. If that wasn't a statement for the state of the world, she didn't know what was. It had taken her two weeks to figure out that they weren't going to let her go if she didn't start showing progress, though she really didn't feel any better. She decided just to fake it, and it still took two months.

She'd have to take Summer School if she wanted to graduate on time, the doctors had deemed school "Too stressful for her fragile mind", so she wasn't allowed any of her homework or anything related to school while she was there. Little did she know of the rumors waiting for her when she went back tomorrow.

Martha was talking about something, but Jenna hadn't been listening for the past twenty minutes or so. She just wanted to get out of the car, into some real clothes, and go to sleep.

"Jenna!" Martha said, snapping her fingers in front of the girls face.

"Huh?" Jenna looked over at her mother, blinking in confusion.

"I've asked you what you want for dinner three times." Martha looked worried.

"Oh… nothing. I just want to sleep." Jenna said, and Martha sighed, frowning slightly at her daughter.

"Are you really okay? You weren't just faking to get out of there, were you?"

Jenna rolled her eyes, even though it was true. "Mom...I'm just tired. I promise." She shot her mother a fake smile, and Martha returned it.

"Alright… we can just go home."Martha relented, figuring that it had just been difficult to get rest in the hospital .

As soon as they pulled up to the house, Jenna bailed out of the car, and went straight into her room without another word. After stripping down into her underwear, she crawled into her bed, and promptly fell fast asleep.

The next couple weeks passed about the same as they had been before she left, only now, on top of the teasing for her appearance, several rumors surfaced. Such as she left school to have an abortion, or she was in jail for some random bullshit or another. The other kids were ruthless, and Jenna found herself not only having to defend herself with her words, but with her fists. Most of the fights never lasted too long, when the other girls realized that she would indeed fight back.

Except for what happened three weeks later.

Jenna was sitting on the wall outside the cafeteria, half of a cigarette held between her lips, while she doodled into a notebook. She was starting to feel more like herself, despite the bullshit she was dealing with. A good thing that two months in the looney bin had taught her was how to tune out bullshit. So when someone climbed up onto the wall next to her and sat down, she didn't even look up.

"Hi," said a male voice, but she still ignored him. "Hellooooo?" he said again, and Jenna's eyes snapped up.

"What?" Jenna growled, looking at the boy. Derek Jensen, it was. One of the bro-iest jocks in the school.

"Hi." He said again, with a smile, apparently not put off by her sour attitude. Jenna rolled her eyes.

"Hi.." She replied, shortly, going back to her drawing.

"So uh... everyone's been wondering where you were.. we were worried, ya know."

"No you weren't... you just wanna know if I had an abortion or some bullshit." She didn't even look up.

"Well did you?"

"No."

"You know... I'm tryin' to be nice to you... you could at least not be a fucking cunt." Derek snapped, and Jenna raised an eyebrow, glaring over at him.

"You're the one asking shitty, invasive questions, but I'm the cunt?" She just scoffed, ashing her cigarette off the side of the wall before tucking it back between her lips and continuing to draw.

"Did you just call me a cunt?" The male sputtered stupidly, just blinking at her.

"I didn't call you anything, I simply made an implication." She smirked at him.

"Implicate this!" Derek shouted, as he shoved her off of the wall. Jenna barely managed to tuck her legs under her, letting her knee take most of the fall. She landed hard, but was mostly unhurt. She heard the laughter erupt around her, and felt her blood run cold. She jumped to her feet, ignoring the protest of her bruised knee cap, and grabbed onto the boy's pant leg, tugging on him until he tumbled off the wall and landed in a heap right next to her. The only laughter now was Jenn's own. And it was short lived, as she heard from behind her.

"Miss Leary!"

Jenna sighed and turned around, seeing Mrs. Simpson standing there. The old bat wasn't Jenna's biggest fan to begin with, and she just had the feeling that the woman hadn't seen Derek push her first. Mr. Brodrick, the gym teacher, was already helping Derek to his feet, the boy making a show of whimpering like he was in agony. Fucking awesome. "Come with me Miss Leary." Simpson said, and Jenna sighed, gathering up her things and following the woman through the courtyard and into her office.

Irritated, and wanting nothing more than to get out of there, Jenna dropped into one of the barely padded chairs across from the woman. "He pushed me first..." She said, sounding tired.

"Be that as it may, Miss Leary, that is no excuse for retaliating..."

"Oh sure! Your prince pushes me off a wall and it's no xcuse for retaliating... But he pisses on Mt. Kinley's mascot and you give him a trophy!" Jenna snapped, hating hot she was zeroed in on like this.

"Miss Leary, I know you've been having some problems lately, but this has..."

"I don't care. Just suspend me or whatever." Jenna was beyond caring, and Simpson's face turned steeley.

"Very well. I'll call your mother." The older woman said, picking up the phone with a pointed look. Jenna just kept her expression neutral. Her mother was babying the shit out of her right now, that wasn't much of a threat.

A half hour later, Jenna was in the front seat of her mom's puttering Oldsmobile.

"Jenn..."

"He pushed me first, mom." The younger woman said flatly.

"I know, but you could have really hurt him." Martha said, frowning slightly.

"He fuckin' hurt me!" Jenna snapped, pulling up her pant leg where there was a deep blue and purple bruise forming. Martha glanced at it, and frowned more,

"Watch your language.." She mumbled, turning onto a street that lead into town.

"Where are we going?" Jenna asked, eyebrows raised.

"You're not gonna sit around the house for four weeks doing nothing. I talked to Roy at the bookstore, he said he'll give you a job."

"What?" Jenna's eyes bugged slightly, and she looked at her mother. "I thought I wasn't supposed to get stressed?!" Jenna was pissed, Roy was a creeper, and her mother was never able to see it. "I'm not workin' for that fuckstick." She said flatly, Marth stopped the car.

"Jenna, please stop. Please? I need you to work with me here..." Martha said, a frown creasing her already stress aged face.

"I'm not working at the bookstore..." Jenna said, with an air of finality. Martha frowned.

"Sweety, please..."

"No!" Jenna snapped, grabbing the door handle and pushing it open. "I'll find my own damn job!" The young woman slammed the door shut, while putting her purse over her shoulder, and stormed away from the car.

Their little northern California town was small, but big enough that she could find somewhere to kill time for a while. Except for today it seemed. Everything was crowded. And even as she started thinking that a job might not be the worst idea her mother had ever had, and that woman was pretty renown for bad ideas, nothing seemed to be hiring.

Happy enough just to have some time to herself, Jenna wandered deeper into the main part of town. The place was your typical middle/working class town. Even those with the most money didn't live in anything nicer than a two-story with a finished basement. Basically, it was nice enough, but definitely not what people pictured when they thought of California.

Jenna rounded the corner, heading back towards the main part of town, when something caught her eyes. It was an old, orange sign, "Stanley's" scrawled across it in script lighting. She'd heard the name before. Some weird old hermit that owned a crematorium. It didn't take much more than the thought of being around bodies, and industrial strength ovens, to perk her interest. Well, wonder if the old weirdo needs any help.

Making her way across the street, she took in the very plain look of the place. It seemed to be attached to a house, but the business part itself was very simple. Gray concrete, inset with a window and a door. It looked dark, but she tugged the door anyways and it gave. There was no bell or chime to note her arrival, which she found a little odd, but whatever.

Jenna noted two things upon entering, the first being that the place smelled stale. The second being that it was very, very plain. It reminded her, very uncomfortably, of the waiting area of the mental hospital. All beige and white and devoid of any real decoration. It was unsettling to say the least, but Jenna moved on. The only place to really go was a room to the right, so she stepped in, and glanced around.

The only funeral Jenna could ever recall going to was her father's. That was a couple years ago, but it looked a lot like this. There was a casket at the far back of the room, on a raised and decorated with white curtains, and some fake flowers. Church pews lined the middle, and at the back sat an altar, with what looked like an urn, and more fake flowers. It was nice enough, but overall rather unremarkable. Another scan of the room let Jenna spot the person sitting in a chair at the front of the room. He was balancing a newspaper on his knee, while holding a pen in his hand, and hadn't seemed to notice her yet. Jenna decided not to say anything, and wandered in.

Jenna noted that the stale smell seemed to linger in here too, but had been covered up by an artificial floral scent that seemed to be coming from the fake flowers spread all over the place. Honestly the overall effect was nauseating rather than pleasant.

She wandered down the aisle between the pues, and the man still hadn't looked up at her and she noticed that he was doing a crossword puzzle. Upon further inspection, she noted that the man wasn't overall bad looking. The way people in town had talked he was some sort of gargoyle. Yeah, she could see the facial scars being a little off putting, but Jenna's father had had psoriasis too... She was used to it.

Jenna looked away as she passed him, peeking into the casket that sat at the front of the room. Everything looked dusty, like it hadn't been used in a long while. It was weird, considering this was a business, and you know... She doubted that people had stopped dying recently. With a shrug she turned around and looked at the man. She assumed this was Stanly, but she wasn't sure. She peeked over his shoulder at the puzzle in his lap.

"It's really rude to stare." The man said, making Jenna jump slightly.

"Night." She said softly, and the man shifted slightly.

"What?" He asked, and she leaned over slightly, pointing at the puzzle.

"Nineteen down, five letters. 'This purple flower is a deadly shade of' night. Deadly nightshade."

He seemed to look at the paper for a moment, before mumbling "Ah.." And filled in the word. "What do you want?"

Jenna raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome... And I want a job." She said, propping hand on her hip as she stepped more to his side. He still didn't look at her. He didn't say anything for a moment.

"I don't need any help." He said, and she raised her eyebrow.

"Uh..." She walked over to the pew in front of where he sat and ran her finger over it, catching a decent amount of dirt. "With all due respect, I think ya do."

At that, the man finally looked up. Jenna noticed how his eyes widened slightly, and quickly flicked over her body, before returning to her face. It didn't effect her, really. She was used to being looked at like that. "How old are you?" He asked, eyes not quite meeting hers.

"Seventeen."

"Why aren't you in school?" He asked, looking away from her.

"I got suspended." She said flatly, and his eyes snapped back up to hers.

"Why?" He asked, and she frowned.

"Does it matter?"

"Well yeah, I don't want to hire a delinquent,"

Jenna rolled her eyes, "I got suspended because guys my age aren't capable of maturing past the level of a potato..."

He didn't say anything, and just lowered his eyes to the paper in his lap for a moment. With a sigh and a huff he stood up, and Jenna watched as he headed into a different room, coming back just a moment later with a broom that he thrust into her hand. She just smiled and nodded, dropping her bookbag and purse onto a pee before starting on the floor.

"I'm Jenna, by the way. " she said, not looking up from her task. The man gave a grunt in reply.

Stan, for his part, just sat back down. Watching the girl out of the corner of his eye. He's been stunned when he finally looked at her, he hadn't wanted to, hoping that she would just leave if he ignored her, but when he had. Oh God. She was too pretty, far too pretty. Even with all of the black shit smeared over her eyes. And was built like she was twenty-five. He didn't want to hire her, but there was something in her eyes, some broken and damaged thing that made him rethink it.

"Stan." He said, the his eyes flicked up to where she was crouched down to pick something up. "This is a trial, so you know. And I can't pay much." He watched as she stood again, thinking he was going to leave. She just shrugged though.

"That's fine."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

A/N: I don't have anything useful to say. So.. onward.

~O~

The first week passed by fairly quickly. Jenna would leave her house around nine in the morning, and make it to work around nine-thirty. The first couple days, she was focused on cleaning and polishing the pews, which were badly neglected, much like the rest of the place. It had taken her most of those two days to get it finished. She then focused on the tapestries and curtains, which were loaded with dust and just generally stained and spotted from years of changing humidity.

She'd chosen to wash them by hand, and had dragged a large, metal tub out back and filled it with water. Focused on what she was doing, she'd rolled her sleeves up, and kept them that way even when Stan showed up later with some food for her and she'd reached out and grabbed the bag. Stanley's eyes snapped to her wrist, and he grabbed it. Jenna had quickly pulled away from him, tugging her sleeve down. "It's nothing…" she'd said, setting down on one of the hard, wooden pews. Stanley didn't say anything, before sitting down himself.

He watched the girl as she unwrapped the sandwich he'd given her. The past week had been interesting. She usually showed up within an hour of opening, never asked many questions, and would work until he made her stop. In that sense, she as the ideal employee. But there were things that bothered him. Mostly how he couldn't keep his eyes off of her while she worked. Stanley might be a hermit, but he was a man. And this girl… young woman, was simply stunning. And she really didn't even try to be. Overall, she seemed to be completely unaware that she was beautiful.

Her black hair, that she usually kept pulled back while she worked, was down to her waist...which itself was so small. If he hadn't known how old she was, he'd place her in her twenties. Honestly, there were moments when he felt downright filthy, staring at her ass when she bent over, or down her shirt if she was standing near him. He'd quickly taken to keeping a decent amount of distance between them. With as many horrible things as he does when he loses control, he didn't need to add rapist to it. He'd stay in the basement or in his house while she worked. But with what he just saw, he felt like maybe he should keep an eye on her. He didn't need her killing herself right in the middle of his business. Even to himself he wouldn't admit it was because he kind of like the girl. It was nice to not be alone all the time, and when she did talk to him, she proved that she was leagues above the rest of her generation in intelligence and maturity.

He sat, slightly facing her, while watching her eat out of the corner of her eye. She was reclined in the pew, with her legs crossed in front of her. The wrapper to her sandwich spread out in her lap while he drink sat to one side, and a bag of chips to the other. She was focused on eating, and it gave Stan a moment just to look at her face. Her features were slender, but her eyes were a shining, crystalline blue that he'd never seen on a person before. She had beautiful lips too, shaped just like any model he'd never seen, the bottom swollen only slightly from her incessant chewing on it. She was so beautiful, it almost hurt.

Stan's eyes snapped away just as she looked up, he could still see her smile from the corner of his yes. "Um… I got most of this cleaned up… I was wondering if you'd like me to take a look in the basement?" She usually spoke pretty quietly, almost in a manner that seemed so opposite of the way she presented herself. But it occurred to Stan in that moment what it probably had more to do with her (now) obvious mental state. Her question though, took him aback a bit.

"No today…" was all he said, before occupying himself with the cup of coffee in his hand. He heard her sigh, but when he looked back up at her she wore a soft smile.

"Why… is that where you keep the bodies?" Sh chuckled at herself, and it took Stan a beat to realize that she was kidding. But when he didn't reply her smile fell and she looked back down at her food "sorry". Stanley just sighed and stood up, fishing the key out of his pocket, holding it out to her. Anything to get that damned crestfallen expression off of her face, he held it out to her.

Jenna just blinked at the key for a moment, before her smile returning, and she took it from him, making to stand up. "Finish your food." He said, before taking his own lunch and disappearing into the back . Jenna just shot a smile at his back, and sat back down, chewing idly on her sandwich as she thought.

Stanley had a bit bit of a reputation in their town. No one really knew him, so it was all speculation, but everyone found him to be weird, and he made most people uncomfortable. Jenna herself just couldn't see it, he was pretty nice to her. Sure, he had his moments when he could be gruff and unfriendly, but...couldn't everyone? She'd learned fast how to gage what kind of mood he was in. Some days she would come in and say 'hi', then be on the receiving end of a look that told her to just do her job and leave. Other's she was greeted with what might pass as a smile, if you looked close enough, and a cup of coffee. She knew if he went into his house, or was doing crosswords, he just needed to be alone. If he was sitting in the display room, reading, it was okay to talk to him. She felt him watch her sometimes, but… it really didn't bother her as much as it probably should. His eyes never lingered or ogled like others did. He just seemed to get a good look, then tear his eyes away. And he never said anything. So neither did she. So yeah, he was weird… but all in all, she thought he was a good guy.

Once she finished, Jenna tossed the bags and wrappers into the trash can, before she made the way to the basement door. The key turned easily, and it opened into a dark stairway. Jenna immediately noted that the musty smell, that she'd gotten used to, was worse down here. She flicked the light switch, which didn't actually seem to help much, before trudging down the steps.

Honestly, she had no idea what she expected, since she knew all the equipment and cool stuff was in the back of the shop, but she still felt a little crestfallen to just see stacks of boxes and a few urns. This is what he didn't want her to see? Or was it just because it was such a mess? Seriously, the dust was going to choke her.

Despite knowing better, she picked up one of the small boxes and opened it. There was nothing inside but a ring and a couple of screws. And found similar things in the rest of the boxes she peeked in. They must have been the random things left over in the ashes.

Moving on from that, she noted the shelves in the center of the room were loaded with books, and there were more urns on top of it. She reached up and turned one of them, it was plain black, with the letters DJ on the front. Not usually one for sentiment, she still found it sad that people just left their family members here. Though… this urn looked pretty new. She shrugged, and looked down at the books. Anatomy, chemistry...how much did you really need to know to set people on fire for a living?

She was about to go get her cleaning things when a white book caught her eye. She pulled it down, and looked over the well worn cover. ' _Death and Cremation'_ it read. And a brief flip through the pages saw her reading the weird accounts of former undertakers, along with a relatively instructional guide on the subject. The macabre part of her perked up, and she tucked the book under her arm before going back upstairs to get her cleaning equipment.

The rest of her time was spent dusting and attempting to organize the basement. And she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard her alarm go off. She'd taken to setting it after the first few days when she'd worked well past what was allotted by child labor laws. Sighing, Jenna gathered up her stuff, and headed back upstairs, locking the door behind her.

After packing up her purse and putting her things away, she sought out her employer. Finally finding him in the living room of his house. His head was leaned back against the couch, and he was clearly sleeping. Jenna just smiled, and sat her purse down quietly, before bending over and carefully taking his glasses off, folding them and setting them down on the end table. She then closed the book that was in his lap, and covered him with the throw blanket on the back of the couch. The basement key was placed next to his glasses.

"See ya tomorrow, boss." Jenna said softly, before slipping back out through the storefront, locking the door tight behind her.

It was about six-fifteen when Jenna made it home. The light on in the kitchen told her that her mother was not working late tonight. And honestly, she didn't know how that made her feel. Martha had backed off with the overbearing babying since Jenna had started working, but she still annoyed the life out of her. The younger woman just sighed and headed inside.

"Oh hey there, Jenna." She heard a male voice off to her left, and felt herself internally groan.

"Hi Roy…" she trailed off, wishing now that she'd just ignored her alarm.

"Hi sweetheart!" Her mother said cheerfully, coming from the back of the trailer. She went to give her a hug, which Jenna dodged. Martha pretended not to notice. "How was work?"

"Like you care…" she mumbled, just rolling her eyes before heading out of the room.

"Oh sweety, dinner's almost ready." Martha called, just as Jenna made it to her bedroom. The girl just groaned and slammed the door before tossing herself on the bed. Great. Dinner with Roy the bookstore perv, just what she always wanted.

Martha seemed to be either purposefully, or genuinely ignorant of the fact that way too many men took a less than honorable liking to her daughter. Roy, who Martha had a hopeless crush on, included. It made for far too many uncomfortable encounters like tonight.

With a groan, Jenna grabbed her purse, and pulled the book out. She ran her fingers over the title again. In all honest, she'd never given much thought about what she would do when she graduated. Which was pretty sad since that was only a few months away at this point. But she figured this was as good a place to start as any.

She flopped dramatically onto her back, and cracked the book open, reading through the introduction and forward, before starting on a story of a man who'd unknowingly cremated a pregnant woman. Apparently her family had declined an autopsy and sent her immediately to the crematorium. Jenna was so engaged in what she was reading, that she didn't hear her mother calling for her. She did, however, notice Roy opening her door.

"Dinner time, babe." He said, with a lecherous grin on his face. Jenna cringed.

"Don't call me 'babe'" she said with a growl, slamming the book down before stomping out of the room. She could feel Roy's eyes on her as she walked to the table, and it pissed her off to no end, so she found her seat as quickly as she could. Martha bustled out of the kitchen a few minutes later carrying three plates. Jenna had to repress a groan when she saw what was sitting on hers. Meatloaf? Really? Martha wasn't exactly a gourmet chef, but she could do better than this. Jenna briefly wondered what Stan would have ended up feeding her if she'd have just stuck around for a while longer. Sure, she would have had to deal with his exasperation at her working late again, but he never seemed to stay mad at her for long, then he'd either order something or cook something before driving her home. Instead she was sitting here smelling what he mother was attempting to pass off as food while attempting to ignore the fact that Roy was staring down her shirt no matter how high she pulled up her collar.

"So how was work today, sweetie?" Her mother asked, just as Jenna forced herself to take a bite of her dinner.

"Yeah, how is working for that old creeper?" Roy asked, smirking around a mouthful of potatoes. Jenna sneered.

"Stan's not a creep. And you're older than he is." She said, glaring at Roy, who just blinked at her for a moment, before recovering.

"Well, I heard he has some kind of gross skin problem. I hope you washed your hands before you started eating."

"It's called psoriasis, and it's not contagious." Jenna snapped, "but you're ignorance might be… I'm pretty sure I can feel my IQ dropping just sitting here."

"Jenna!" Her mother gasped, dropping her fork. Roy's face was turning red. "Go to your room."

"Fucking gladly," Jenna said, standing up and leaving the table, even leaving her plate there. She headed down the hall, and slammed the door behind her, throwing herself onto her bed again. God! She hated that man. And the fact that her mother was so far up his ass. It killed her. Fuck him! And for him to say anything about Stan! That was what got her the worse. Granted, she scarcely knew the man, but he still treated her better than any other man in her life ever had, except her father. Roy's fucking trash. Fuck him. Ugh.

Picking up her book again, she tried to ignore the fact that that asshole was still in her house. She'd give anything to go back out there and shove a fork through his eyeball. Blissfully though, she got sucked back into the book. And didn't realize it was pitch black outside when there was a knock on her door.

"What?" Jenna groaned, very suddenly in a bad mood again. Martha pushed it open, with a rather sour look on her face.

"Was that really necessary, Jenn?" The older woman asked, sitting on the edge of her daughter's bed. Jenna snapped the book shut.

"That guy is a twat, mom." She said, knowing already that it wasn't going to do any good.

"He was just nervous. "Martha defended. Jenna just rolled her eyes.

"Not too nervous. He spent most of the night staring down my shirt."

"Sweetie, I'm sure he…"

"Just stop, Martha!" Jenna all but yelled, startling her mother. "You've got your head so far up that guy's ass you can't even see how not interested he is." Martha frowned, and opened her mouth a few times, only to immediately close it. She finally just stood up and went to the door.

"I know you miss your dad," Her mother spoke softly, but Jenna heard it regardless. "But it's been five years. We both need to move on eventually." With that, she opened the door and left. Jenna could hear her mother sobbing down the hall. The younger woman could only sigh.

Giving up on the book for the night, Jenna decided instead on a shower and bed. She was pretty worn out from working anyways. Yeah… she was just tired. Not in any way creeping towards another bout of crippling depression.

As she stood under the hot water, she traced the scars all over her body. Able to remember each and every one and what had caused her to do it. Her upper arms were covered. Some of them formed obvious pattern. Others jagged and rushed. And then there was her wrist. The skin was still red and purple and angry. She knew that the color would face in time, but the raised skin would always be there. A constant reminder that she couldn't handle the hand she'd been dealt.

She remembered earlier that day, when Stan had grabbed her wrist and ran his thumb over the scar. She mimicked the motion with her own thumb. Something had flashed across his eyes before he'd let go. It had looked so painful. And she'd felt her heart clench slightly. She'd almost been sure for a moment that he was never going to leave her alone again.

The girl squashed that feeling down. Not wanting to deal with anything at the moment. But after drying off and changing into a large tee shirt and pajama pants, she found the thought of that face haunting her dreams.

It was the briefest of things. She dreamed she was sitting on a pew, polishing an urn when Stanley came in. Her sleeves were rolled up and her grabbed her wrist, his face haunted as he ran his fingers over the scar, which was still bleeding. His fingers were covered in blood before he bent and pressed his lips to the weeping wound. And just as dream Jenna's eyes fluttered closed, real Jenna's eyes snapped open.

She glanced around her dark room, with her heart pounding in her chest, and not at all in an entirely unpleasant way. What the hell though? Where had that come from? Yeah, Stan was by far the most decent man in her life. And he wasn't ugly by any means. Not that he'd be winning any Mr. Universe competitions any time soon, But she found him handsome in his own way. If for nothing other than his crazy, beautiful blue eyes. But was it romantic?

Jenna rubbed her eyes as she looked at the clock. It read five in the morning. She didn't need to be up for another three hours. However, she felt fairly wound up, and knew that she wouldn't be making it back to sleep any time soon. She got up and grabbed her boots, stuffing her feet into them before picking up the book .

There was a small truck stop at the end of her street. Jenna often found herself there in the wee hours when she couldn't sleep. It was quiet, and the coffee was good and cheap. Fortunately, this morning was no exception. She was able to tuck herself into a corner waitress brought her a cup of coffee with lots of little packs of cream, and Jenna happily let herself get sucked back into the book in her hands. Fascinated by all of the weird little anatomy facts, like how you could stop someone's heart with the pressure points in their neck. She did her best to forget about the dream, but every few minutes it would pop back into her mind, and she would pause at the thought of the devastated look on Stan's face. Around the fifth time this happened, she slammed her book closed. ' _It was just a dream, Jenna… jesus…'_ she scolded herself, not able to fathom why this was bothering her so much.

"Did you hear about the Jensen boy?" She heard from the table to her right. Jenna felt an angry shiver tear through her.

"Yeah, cops said he disappeared from the Burger Hut, right?" another voice replied.

"Yeah, said they only found like a tiny drop of blood at the scene."

"Shit's gettin' fuckin' spooky. Ain't this like five people disappearing in the past year?

Jenna just blinked. Derek was missing? ' _Good, hopefully the fucker is dead.'_ She thought, before glancing up at the clock. She had to get home and get ready for work. She stood up, and dropped enough money on the table for her coffee and the tip, before heading out the door.

Fortunately, she could still hear her mother's soft snoring when she got home, meaning she wouldn't have to have another twenty minute argument about not needing a ride and how she liked walking.

It was starting to get warmer, so she opted for some shorts instead of her normal jeans. These ones still covered her scars enough. And she slipped on a long sleeved, if not a little low cut, top. You know… because she gets warm when she works. She did her makeup like normal, and plaited her hair over her shoulder. After replacing her shoes, she headed out the door.

~O~

Across town, Stan had also woken early due to a dream. His head had been filled with images of his young assistant lying in a pool of blood from wounds that he couldn't find. The nightmare had startled him awake, panting and scared. Dreaming about blood soaked women wasn't exactly abnormal for him, but the women weren't usually ones he cared about. Not that there were many of those to begin with. It shook him rather badly.

So he got himself up early, and mindlessly watched some reruns of M*A*S*H before he had to get dressed. And then, just because he was feeling odd, and almost like he needed to,he started cooking breakfast. Besides, he knew Jenna had a very bad habit of not eating in the morning.

"Stan?" He heard coming from the shop entrance. Speak of the Devil…

"In the house!" He called over his shoulder. He listened as she walked through the showroom and his office, before opening the door that adjoined his kitchen to that room. He was just flipping the eggs when she spoke.

"That smells great," She said, and he looked up, freezing for a moment. Why was she wearing shorts? And how did her legs look like that? Those were a womans legs. _She is a woman, dumbass,_ his mind reminded him. Maybe not legally, but in every other way… she was a woman. He forced his eyes back on the food before she caught him looking. Stan saw her sit down at his counter from the corner of his eye. She was quiet while he finished cooking, and smiled brightly at him when he sat the plate down in front of her. Jenna reached out to grab the salt shaker, and her hand brushed against his. Stan flinched, and Jenna blushed, mumbling a quick 'sorry', before she started eating.

Stan recovered, he just wasn't used to being touched, even by accident. People usually gave him a rather wide berth. Jenna, and he neither fear nor revulsion of him was confusing, and amazing at the same time. It scared him.

"So that boy… Derek, that I told you about…" She started talking, then took a sip of her coffee. Stan carefully raised his eyes to her, schooling his face to impassivity. "I guess he disappeared or something." His eyes quickly flicked over her face, not seeing any suspicion. she was just making conversation.

"Hm…" he mumbled, looking down at his plate, "does that bother you?"

"Fuck no." She said, his eyes snapping back to hers. "I hope that asshole is dead. Then maybe my last couple months of school won't be a fucking nightmare." Stan's eyes snapped up, and he blinked at her for a moment. Not really able to believe that she'd just said that.

"Well… here's hoping." He said, raising his coffee cup to his lips to hide the smirk that was threatening to come out.

~O~

A/N: Jenna is a bad bad girl. Reviews make me write faster. Usually. It's worth a try.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Except this laptop… with a sticky space bar and e key. And the complete W.A.S.P. discography.

~O~

Two more weeks passed, much the same as the first had, only now with a very notable tension that both of them pretended not to notice. Jenna tried to keep to herself, and did her job just as efficiently as ever, but subconsciously she knew that something was different. With her more so than Stan. Her clothing was getting increasingly more revealing, something that her mother had commented on just this morning. Jenna claimed that it was hot and she didn't want to wear jeans. The truth was that she liked when Stan looked at her. It made her feel as pretty as she really was. Because he wasn't creepy about it. She was flattered.

Stan, was losing his mind. He couldn't tell if she was doing it on purpose, or was just mindless, but the girl was driving him up the wall. And even then, he still couldn't say anything. Because he liked seeing her legs, and loved when she bent to pick something up and her ample chest threatened to spill out of her top. There'd been more than once that he'd had to go into the house, lock the door and take care of a growing problem. As hard as he tried to tell himself that she was just a kid, he knew it was a lie. She wasn't a kid. That was a woman, an intelligent, fierce and beautiful woman that he was hopelessly falling for. And he hated it. But try as he might, he could never turn that anger on her. So it was turned on anyone else that crossed his path. The older black man that had sneered at him at the grocery store, the middle-age woman that had laid on her horn while he was changing lanes. No one was safe from his deranged frustration. No one but Jenna, apparently, because she just walked passed him, and brushed her hip against his hand and he did nothing. She acted like she didn't notice, while she went about dusting the fake flowers around the room. He shifted in his chair. It was going to be a long day.

Jenna couldn't tell what was going on with her, because she'd never before been interested in anything to do with men or sex. It wasn't that she never thought about it, but it was always something she just took care of herself and moved on. This was different though, and it was a strange mix of weird and enthralling. The way she made him react to her without even trying. She was pretty proud of herself.

It was the beginning of her fourth and final week of suspension that she was approached on the street. "Jenna Leary?" the man asked, flashing a badge at her. She blinked.

"Yeah?"

"My name's Matt Fairchild, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment?"

Jenna felt uncomfortable, and backed up a step. "I really have to get to work…" She mumbled.

"Yes, you work at the crematorium, correct?"

"Yeah…" She said, crossing her arms.

"And you knew Derek Jensen, as well, right?"

Jenna had to stop herself from sneering."Yeah… he went to my school."

"Went?" The detective said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well yeah...he's been missing for like three weeks." She said with a shrug. She didn't like this, and she was going to be late.

"That's right, he has." The cop nodded. "Miss Leary, were you aware that Mr. Jensen and his family had visited your workplace the day he went missing?"

Jenna froze, her eyes going wide. What? She thought, The cop stood, waiting, while her mind reeled. Stan's reaction when she said she hoped Derek was dead, the new urn in the basement, her heart was pounding. "I-...no… I was at a doctors appointment with my mom." It wasn't a lie, she really hadn't been at work that day. Matt nodded.

"Yes that's what your employer said." He looked at her in the eyes. "Miss Leary, have you noticed anything odd about your boss? Anything suspicious?"

 _I fucking have now!_ Jenna's mind screamed, but she shook her head. "N-no… Stan's just quiet… keeps to himself."

Clearly that wasn't the answer Matt wanted, but he nodded, and fished in his pocket for a moment, before pulling out a card and handing it to her. "If you can think of anything, please give me a call." He said, before turning away from her. Jenna just nodded, and waited until he was out of sight before she crumpled the card and threw it to the ground, turned and bolted towards work.

Stan looked up when he heard the front door bang open and Jenna rushed in, looking rather distressed. His eyes followed her as she quickly ran through the display room and disappeared into the basement, that he'd long stopped locking. He raised his eyebrows, and she reemerged moments later, carrying an urn. Stan's blood turned, and his heart quickened.

Jenna locked eyes with him as she approached, and roughly plunked the urn down on the table. "Did you kill Derek Jensen?" She asked, her voice sounding strained. Stan's eyes flicked from her's to the urn and back. His mouth felt dry. He watched as she took the lid off of the urn, a puff of ash escaping. "Is this him?!"

"Yes." Stan said flatly. Jenna dropped the lid and stepped back, her mouth slightly open. She was trembling, and the look on her face was… he didn't even know. "I thought you wanted him dead."

"I-I did… but…" she took a shaking breath. "It's you...isn't it? All those people that keep disappearing...you're killing them…"

Stan picked up the lid to the urn, and replaced it, before looking back at her. "Yes." Jenna's eyes widened, and she backed up more.

"I-I….I have to go…" She whispered, before taking off, out of the shop before he could even stand up. Stan growled and grabbed the urn, hurling it against the wall. Raining human ash and ceramic everywhere. _Fucking wonderful,_ his mind screamed. Turning and looking at the door. He'd have to kill her. She knew too much and he had to. But even as he thought it, he knew he couldn't. He'd rather rot in prison that put a hand on her for anything other than to bring her pleasure. Not that he even thought he could do that. Miserable, Stan sank back into his chair, covering his face with his hands. How the hell did she even find out…?

~O~

Jenna ran and ran until her lungs felt like they would explode. Her back hit a tree and she sank down it, until her ass hit the ground. Stan was a murderer. A straight up homicidal maniac! All of those people… what….what was she supposed to do?! She'd been working with, sharing meals with… trying to seduce, a serial killer! A shiver tore through her as she realized what he could have done to her. It made tears well in her eyes. After so long of wanting to die… she'd found a reason to want to hold on, and that reason could have very well killed her at any moment.

Oh god... she knows. He was going to come after her. Oh shit. SHIT! She was panicking, when he pocket buzzed. She flinched, and slowly slipped her phone out. Scared to look at it.

 _I would never hurt you…._ the message read. Jenna felt her heart pound in her chest. Did she believe that? Honestly? Jenna couldn't think, and shoved her phone into her purse. Heading home.

She didn't go back to work.

~O~

Jenna didn't come into work the next day. Or the days after that. But neither did any cops. Stan was scared though. If she decided to tell anyone, he was done. And in a few moments, he'd convinced himself that she needed to die. But then he would remember the dream, the fear and pain he'd felt seeing her lying there, dead. He couldn't. He'd never be able to do it. He cared too much about her. _You love her,_ his treacherous mind spoke. He shook his head. No, he didn't love her. He didn't even know what that was. Still, his heart tore at the thought of never seeing her again. And in the privacy of his living room, Stan broke. For the first time since he was a child, watching the never ending trail of men use up and ruin his far too young mother. Stan buried his face in his hands and cried.

~O~

A month. Jenna had been out of school for a month. And when she work that Monday, with her face swollen and puffy from crying herself to sleep again, Jenna was filled with dread. She'd lied, and told her mother that Stan had to go out of town for a bit. And hidden in her room for days, crying and cowering in fear. She was so terrified that he would come for her, despite the text message she'd gotten. There hadn't been any more of them, luckily. Or at last she told herself it was lucky.

The truth was, she missed him. She missed him so much it hurt. And her eyes watered again. This was too much...she cared too much. She should call the cops, and be done with it. But she couldn't, because she loved him. _Love…?_ She blinked, and shook her head. No… no she couldn't love him. She was too young to know what that meant. No… she just cared because he really was a sweet man who'd done more for her than he needed. _He's a murderer Jenn…._ She reminded herself, and weeped softly.

It took her twenty minutes to get herself up and dressed. She met her mother at the door, who looked over her daughter's conservative dress and puffy eyes.

"What's wrong?" Martha asked, laying a hand on Jenna's shoulder. The younger woman just shook her head.

"I uh...had a dream about dad." She lied. It seemed like that was all she did anymore was lie to her mom.

"Oh honey," Martha said, pulling Jenna into a hug. "It's okay...I miss him too."

Jenna just nodded, and went out to the car while Martha locked the door.

School was a mess. For the first half of the day, she'd just been stared at like she'd grown a second head. She her whispers, people thought she killed Derek, that she knew something. Well...they weren't wrong. She forced herself through the day, and finally the last bell rang.

Jenna headed into the bathroom, taking a look at herself in the mirror. She was a mess, and she knew it. She looked years older than she was, the weight of everything visible in her distressed face and posture. What was she supposed to do…?

"Well well… there's the murderer herself." Jenna heard, and her head snapped around, spotting two girls standing at the door. She recognized them as Billie, Derek's girlfriend, and her bestie Tracey. Jenna shuddered, this was bad. "Where's Derek?" Billie asked.

"How the fuck should I know?" Jenna snapped, putting her bag over her shoulder. "Maybe he got tired of your butterface and took off."

Billie glared. "Shut up bitch! He disappeared right after you fucking attacked him!" Billie strode forward and slapped Jenna, who immediately reeled back and punched her, knocking her back several feet.

"Bitch!" Tracey snapped, and Jenna found herself on her back. She ended up with a split lip, and bruised face before the girls left her there, on the sticky bathroom floor. Jenna refused to cry as she pulled herself up and grabbed her bag. Her face hurt, and she was tired as she wandered out of the school, thankfully not meeting anyone else on the way out.

When she was out the door, she immediately turned left, letting her feet carry her to the last place she ever thought she'd go again.

Jenna stared at the front of the building. That plain, grey, nothingness of a building, fidgeting with the keys in her hand, before she walked around it, to the house that was attached to the back. She took a deep breath, and stuffed her key into the door, twisting it open. She stepped in, slowly closing it behind her.

Stanley looked up, and couldn't believe his eyes. There she was, standing in his doorway. He looked over her, taking a deep breath. She came back. She was here. His heart ached. Then he saw her lip, and was up in a flash. Jenna flinched, but didn't move, even as his hands touched her face.

"What happened?" He asked, softly, gently running his finger over the wound,

Jenna sucked in a breath. "Just let me use the phone."

"Jenn-"

"Stan please." She pleaded, and he nodded, stepping away from her and letting her pass him.

Jenna had no idea where he phone was, but that was so minor at the moment. She went into the kitchen and picked up the house phone, dialing her mother at work.

"Mom…" Jenna said softly when she answered.

"Oh hey honey, I'm sorry I couldn't get you, I'll be here late tonight." Martha said, sounding tired. "Are you at work?"

"Yeah… uh hey… Molly Jenkins offered to help me get caught up on the English project. Is it okay if I stay with her tonight?" Jenna said, lying yet again.

"Oh… well I guess that's okay. Do you have clothes and everything you need?" Her mother asked, hesitantly.

"Yeah, yeah I'll be fine."

Martha sighed. "Alright, I guess I'll see you after work tomorrow?" Martha asked.

"Yeah. See you tomorrow." Jenna hung up and went back to the living room, setting on the couch and pulling her legs up to her chest. Stan looked at her with very thinly veiled concern. She didn't look at him as she asked. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Stan just blinked "I thought you just said-"

"I lied."

"Oh… of course you can." He nodded. Tearing his eyes away from her. He took a deep breath. Something was shifting, changing in their dynamic. He knew he would never say no to her for anything.

"They think I killed him… the kids at school." She said quietly, looking down at her knees. Stan just took a breath. "Billie Masters and Tracey White… they did this." She gestured to her face. Stan's eyes widened. Did she just….

"Why are you telling me this…?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Why do you think?" She asked, looking into his eyes. Her face was dark, and angry… and so beautiful. Stan swallowed thickly, and nodded softly, crossing his legs as he felt himself starting to react to her. She wanted him to kill those girls. He couldn't believe it, just the fury on her beautiful face was making him hard.

"I'll keep the shop closed today." He said, only glancing at her. "How about some pad thai for dinner?" He suggested. Jenna smiled softly, wincing at the pull of the wound on her lip.

"Sounds good to me." She agreed, now looking at the television.

Something just changed….

~O~

A/N: ooooooooooooo. Review.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

A/N: **WARNING! PAY ATTENTION!** From this point on, this story's rating goes up to M. I'm assuming that since you're here you have no problem with death and gore. However, there will be sex. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you stop reading. If you're under 18, just stop here. I know you won't actually listen, but I had to say it.

Also, this story is set in 2010, so there's no confusion about ages and such.

~O~

 _Stan watched as the young boy stood before the mirror, picking at the scabs on his face. The child looked haunted, and tortured. And he was. He was supposed to be in bed, but the noises from his mommy's room were keeping him awake, and his face itched so bad. So bad that he had to tear it open. He had to!_

 _The moans and screams that he didn't understand made him sick to his tummy. He didn't like Bob… he mom's new boyfriend. He was mean to Stanley. He threatened to ship him off, far away from his mommy. He made Stan cry a lot._

 _With his face weeping blood, the little one walked out of the bathroom, to try to go to back to bed. But the door to mommy's room was open, and he looked in. She was naked, with Bob over top of her. Mommy was screaming and moaning, but then she saw him, her eyes going wide._

" _S-stop... " she moaned, looking up at Bob. "S-stanley… in the hall…"_

 _Bob's head snapped around and he pulled away from mommy, and Stan found his head hitting the railing to the stairs._

Stan's eyes snapped open, and he panted hard. Fuck… fuck all of it. He was so sick of remembering that shit. His shit life.

Stanley scrubbed his face with his hands for a moment, before glancing around the dark. The clock said it was two in the morning, and he sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow. He remembered that Jenna was lying on his couch right now, probably happily sleeping.

He pulled himself out of the bed, and flicked on the light. Still shaking as he opened his closet and pulled out a box, it was full of his mother's things. There were pictures, and little trinkets. But what Stan was looking for was at the bottom, and he carefully tugged it out. It was the black dress his mother had worn to his father's funeral in 1959. Stan was just a baby, and Anne was Jenna's age. They had been young, in love and careless and when Anne got pregnant her parents threw her out. His father joined the military, and they were doing okay, until he broke his neck doing a training exercise.

Anne got by by waitressing, but she soon found herself in a pit of alcohol and drugs, and then the men came. Anne loved her little boy, and treated him as best she could, but her fear of being alone had caused her to latch onto any man she could, and most of them treated him like shit. She turned a blind eye to it. Something Stanley has resented even fifty years later.

The dress was black, with lacy sleeves and neckline. The bust was sweetheart shaped, and tapered to a small waist before the skirt flared out. Stan pictured Jenna wearing it. She was built a lot like his mother. She would be stunning.

He carefully folded the dress, before pulling out the garter belt and silk stockings that went with it. He didn't want her to have to wear the same clothes to school twice, so he would wash her's… and she could wear this tomorrow. He glanced at the clock… today.

Stanley folded everything neatly and slipped out of his bedroom, approaching the couch as quietly as he could. He placed the dress onto the table, and shifted his gaze to the sleeping beauty on his couch. Her black hair was splayed out over the pillow, with her perfectly pink lips parted so slightly. Stan could see the mounds of her breasts and curve of her hip through the thin sheet that covered her. She was so perfect, and he was so hopeless. This beautiful creature could never be interested in a gargoyle like him And she was still two months from being legal. But that didn't stop him. He wanted her in every conceivable way.

With a sigh, Stan turned and went back to his room, shutting the door softly behind him.

The light click snapped Jenna out of the half dreamy, half awake state she'd been in when Stan came out. She glanced around herself for a moment, only barely remembering that she wasn't at home.

The fireplace was still going, casting a warm glow around the room, and she noticed the bundle of black on the table. Curiously, she sat up and grabbed it, the stockings tumbling to the floor with the belt. She blinked at them, and carefully set them back on the table. The material in her hands felt like butter as she unfolded it, gasping softly at what she was. It was so beautiful, too beautiful for her, and she felt tears press at her eyes. No one had ever been as good to her as Stan was. After the got past the newness of her working there, he'd become something like her best friend. Her only friend really. He listened to her talk, and fed her, hell, he'd even helped her with her homework earlier. It occurred to her for a moment that those things also fell into the category of fatherly, but she brushed that thought off. So she might have some daddy issues, so did most girls in her generation. that night after they ate. Jenna made a decision in that moment and glanced at his bedroom door, standing up.

She wasn't wearing anything but the t shirt he'd given her, and panties. Her hair was a mess, and she hadn't taken her makeup off. Jenna thought she looked a wreck, but the truth was she looked sexier than anything Stan had ever seen. As she would learn soon.

Jenna lightly tapped on the door, not even sure if he'd be able to hear her. But she heard the rustling of sheets, and a gruff 'what?' as her in invitation to open the door. She stepped in softly, and closed it behind her, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth.

Stanley felt the breath sucked right out of him at the sight of her, bathed in moonlight wearing little more than his shirt. He could even see the small amount of black from her panties at the apex of her perfect thighs. He had to fight to keep from getting turned on.

"I-is something' wrong?" He asked, watching as she softly shook her head. The motion causing her hardened nipples to jostle slightly under her shirt.

"No… but...thank you for the dress, it's beautiful." She whispered softly, feeling like speaking louder would shatter the moment.

"You're welcome." Stan trailed, as Jenna pushed off from the wall and walked over to the bed. The soft sway of her hips tipping him over the edge, getting hard despite his best efforts. He watched as she crawled onto his bed. "What're ya doin?" He asked, swallowing hard.

"Why are you so good to me?" She asked, setting on her knees and looking down at him. Stan sighed and sat up, leaning against the headboard.

 _Because I'm hopelessly and pathetically in love with you,_ he thought, but outwardly he just shrugged. "You're a good kid."

Jenna frowned at that, she knew better. "I'm not a kid." She whispered, leaning forward and pressed her lips against his. Stan froze for a moment, before taking hold of her shoulders and pushing her away slightly.

"Don't…" He whispered, a pained look crossing his face.

"Why?" She replied, tilting her head so softly to the left.

"Just… we can't...I can't…. I'm old enough to be your father." He pleaded, though his brain was screaming at him to stop.

"That doesn't matter to me." She said, leaning in and brushing her nose against his cheek. "I want you…"

Stan's cock throbbed, and he closed his eyes. "Jenna…"

"Tell me you don't want me… and I promise I'll go back to the living room." She said, softly turning his face to her. She could see the conflict in his eyes. The need. Just doing what she was doing made the coil in her belly tighten, she could feel her lower lips getting moist.

Stan opened his eyes. And looked at her, really looked at the need and adoration written all over her. He couldn't speak, his mouth was dry, his eyes were fixed on the lips that had just been on his. He knew he needed to do the right thing, he needed to tell her to get out. She wasn't legal yet, but looking at her in her disheveled beauty, he couldn't. He couldn't do the right thing, because the right thing didn't feel right. His hands slipped from her shoulders and into her hair, and he pulled her to him, crushing his lips against her's. Jenna moaned and immediately shifted,so she was tucked against him.

Stan's sexual experiences had been very limited. He had a girlfriend in high school, a girl a lot like Jenna, who wasn't bothered by his gruff personality or his scars. He'd lost his virginity to her. They were together for two years before he caught her kissing another guy when they were at the movies together. She was his first kill as well. There was another woman he saw when he was in his late twenties, she died from her own stupidity. Other than that, he'd only ever fucked with whores. Women who didn't care anything about him and would lie there, or bend over however long it took him to get off as long as he paid for it. But even then they'd eventually started turning him away… probably because so many of them went missing when he was involved. However, Stan had a rather integral knowledge of human anatomy, and that served him well with his lack of actual experience.

Having her lips on his, the length of her body pressed against him was making it _very hard_ to focus, but he managed to get her lips parted, and his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like toothpaste and something that Stan would soon come to think of as just _Jenna._ She wormed her tongue against his, her hands gripping onto the t shirt he was sleeping in. And she was trembling. His little spitfire was scared, and he found it rather endearing. He knew he'd have to take charge, and slowly shifted so Jenna was lying on her back, Stan propped on his elbow, one hand moved from her hair, down her body, he just ghosted over her chest for a moment, before resting softly on one of her large breasts. She arched into his hand, pressing the globe into his hand, his member throbbed painfully, but he ignored it, giving the marvelous tit in his hand a soft squeeze. It made Jenna moan again, and he decided that's his new favorite sound in the world.

Jenna was a mess. The moment he kissed her back she grabbed onto his shirt, never wanting to let go again. His lips fit so perfectly against her's, and she forgot how to breath for a moment. Her body felt so warm, and alive. She had no idea that this was what it was like. She'd never cared before. Sure she had crushes, and she'd fantasized, however she also knew she could handle,most of her own needs on her own. But his hand was on her breasts now, and it felt too good. She whimpered, and arched into his touch, finding she needed to press her legs together to relieve some of the tension.

Stan's fingers danced over her thinly clothed breasts, before he pinched her nipple between his thumb and index finger, tweaking it so softly. Jenna gasped, feeling the shock go straight from her nipple to her cunt. Her eyes flew open and she looked up at him as she slid her hands down her body, and grabbed the hem of her shirt, tugging it up, exposing herself to him completely. Stan took a deep breath, and she felt his cock, that was pressed against her hip, twitch. It made her bite her lip. "Stop that." He said, bringing his lips back to hers while she idly played with her breasts. She was squirming softly, returning the kiss until she had to breath. She panted hard, with her forehead pressed against his.

"Put your mouth on me." She whispered. Stan moaned, and lowered his mouth to her breasts, taking the peaked nipple into his mouth. Jenna gasped, eyes fluttering shut. His mouth felt so good, suckling on her tit, the other being caressed and pinched relentlessly. Jenna couldn't do anything but writhe and moan on the bed,

As Stan attended to her breasts, his free hand travelled down her body, resting it just over her weeping cunt. The heat coming off of her was stifling, and his lower anatomy was making it very clear how badly it wanted in there. He staved it off for now, his focus on Jenna instead. The gorgeous girl that was mewling and trembling on his bed. Stan wondered if she was a virgin, she was sure as hell reacting like one. But he couldn't imagine this beautiful creature being untouched. He didn't like the thought of her being touched at all, but he was a realist if nothing else.

Jenna had lost control of her senses, every nerve in her body was alive and felt everything. Every time his tongue flicked and circled her nipple she felt a shock run straight to her core, and now with his hand resting on her sex, she was losing it. She started rocking her hips against his hand. "Stan please," she all but whimpered, wanting to feel his skin on hers. He tore his mouth away from the nipple he'd been feasting on, and looked up at her, as he tucked her panties away, and traced a finger over her soaked folds. Jenna sucked in a sharp breath, and let it out as a whine.

Stan watched her face as he teased her core with his fingers, slicking up her entrance, tracing her outer lips, touching everything before pressing his fingers against her swollen bud. Jenna jerked and a cry flew from her lips, her mouth opened slightly while he circled the little cluster or nerves, occasionally dipping his finger down to rewet it from her dripping cunt.

Jenna was so lost, it felt... Like nothing she'd ever managed to do to herself. He made tight little circles around her clit, making her rock with the movements, it was almost too much, and she couldn't stand to keep her eyes open, having to close them just to focus on breathing. And that was the moment he slipped his long, middle finger inside of her. "Ohhhh," she cooed, and felt it run along her front wall, before he stopped abruptly. Jenna's eyes snapped open. "Wh-what's wrong?"

Stan had loved watching her face, knowing it was him making her feel those things. She was so warm and responsive. And he wanted his fingers in her. Tight, so tight... But then he felt it, that tiny little ridge of skin just inside. She was a virgin. Stan stopped, his eyes raising slowly to her's. "Y-you're a…" He didn't even know how to say it. Jenna nodded, and Stan moved to withdraw his hand, finding it suddenly covered by her much smaller one, holding him in place. while her other hand tilted his face to her.

"I want this." She reminded him, as she pressed his hand tighter against her core. Stan's eyes fluttered like he was trying not to close them. Jenna brought her lips to his, kissing him so softly, Stan sat frozen for a moment, before sighing through his nose, and returning the kiss. Jenna smiled internally.

Stanley was fighting an internal war, between what he wanted and what he should do. He _should_ tell her enough, make her go back out to the living room and wait for someone her own age. But what he wanted, oh it was clear what he wanted. He couldn't recall ever being this hard before. And as he ran his finger along her front wall, and found the part that made her scream, he knew his wants were definitely winning.

Jenna felt Stan's finger curl up inside of her, and the next thing she knew stars exploded behind her eyes. He just hit a spot that sent electricity through every nerve in her body, and now, twisting his hand around a bit, he was rubbing that spot, and her clit at the same time. She couldn't breath, or think. She could only feel, and what she felt was amazing, Her pulse was pounding in her ear, while her hips rocked and twitched. She knew the feeling of her pressure rising, but never, _ever_ felt it like this. As she drew closer she felt almost sure that she would burst. Her toes were curled, back arched, and nerves almost vibrating. "S-stan…" She gasped, before being cut off by a shriek, she lost control of her entire body, and it acted out in rough bucks and twitches, all the while Jenna fought to keep the noises threatening to escape from her under throat.

Stan watched in pure awe as he brought the girl to orgasm. Never more grateful for how thorough anatomy classes really are. She was so stunning, as she writhed on the bed, screaming and fighting for control of herself. Stan idly thought for a moment how much better it was to watch her do that in pleasure, rather than the whores that he killed doing the same while in pain. But the way that she tightened around his finger, gripping onto it and threatening never to let go, and how wet his hand was had Stan sure that if he wasn't inside of her soon, he might die from the amount of blood not flowing in his system.

Jenna had finally fallen to soft tremors, while she caught her breath, coming down from her high. That had been… she didn't even know how to describe it. She'd never felt anything like that. It was too good, so good. She looked at Stan, and smiled a half delirious smile. Happy to return the kiss that he suddenly planted on her lips. She felt the bed shift, as he moved between her legs, which she happily parted for him.

Jenna had to force herself to relax, though she felt her nerves begin to stir. His lips on her's were more demanding, and he seemed to take great care not to put his entire weight on her. But she was starting to feel the butterflies in her stomach. This was it… she hadn't put much stock into the ideal that losing your virginity was a big deal, but here it was. And she might be mildly freaking out.

Stan, was more than a little less in tune with her at the moment, bracing himself on one hand, while pulling down his sleep pants enough to free himself with the other. Jenna wasn't the only one fighting with her nerves right then. Stanley was just as scared, and he didn't really know why. But the heat was seeping out of her, and clouding his mind so much he couldn't dwell on it.

He guided his hips to hers, holding the head of his rather average cock outside her entrance. Jenna drew a sharp breath when she felt him there, and he broke the kiss. Looking down at her. "You sure about this?" He asked. This was her last chance to change her mind, because he knew once he was inside of her, he wouldn't be able to stop. As it was his dick already hurt just from how long he'd been hard and unattended. He watched his young assistant draw her lip between her teeth, and was ready for her to say no, when she pushed her hips forward. Stan groaned, as the tip of his cock sank into her.

"Do it fast." She whispered, keeping her eyes on his. She'd heard from some that it hurt, and others that they felt nothing, she'd read so much she didn't know what to think. She watched as Stan nodded, and wet his lips. She was trembling, and nervous, and all but jumped when she felt him lie his hand on her hip, holding her in place. Stan's eyes raised to hers, and she sucked in a breath, that quickly flew back out of her as his hips snapped forward, their skin meeting with a dull smack, and she felt a pinch from within her. That's all it was, just a pinch, like when she get her ears pierced, and the pain ebbed so quickly, replaced by the amazing feeling of being full of _him, his_ cock pressing against every overly sensitive nerve inside her tight cavern. It felt... It was... She couldn't even think of a way to describe it, it was so amazing. "Oooooh," she cooed.

Stan had given her one last, pleading look, but she'd brushed it off, and now he was buried within her, struggling to keep himself under control. She was so hot, and so tight, and so wet. She hadn't even screamed when he felt that delicate band of flesh snap around him. Lori had screamed, his girlfriend from high school. Of course Stan understood now that her pain had had more to do with his sixteen year old self's impatience for foreplay, but still... The fact that the first sound to come out of Jenna after he tore away her innocence like tissue paper being one of pleasure was astounding to him. It took several moments for him to be sure that he wasn't just going to cum right then, before he could draw himself back, and thrust forward again, this time resulting in a silent moan coming from the woman beneath him. Her eyes rolled back, and her hips rocked softly. Stan knew then that he was hooked.

Jenna didn't know what she was supposed to do, but coherent thought also wasn't an option either, every little movement Stan made sent electricity along her nerves, and drew noises from her throat that she didn't even know she could make. But her body seemed to understand what she should be doing, because her hips began to rock against his of their own accord, drawing back as he did, then pushing forward to meet his with a soft slap of skin. Her body was arched, tilting her hips down, trying to make him touch that place inside of her again. Stan seemed to sense this, because he angled himself so his cock scraped along her front wall, and he hit it again, making her scream. God, she didn't know what it was but she wanted him to touch that again and again forever. "Harder," Jenna whispered, catching his eyes with hers again.

Stan swallowed thickly, and took a steadying breath, thrusting into her a measure harder than before, while Jenna's hands sought out a place to anchor herself, choosing to grab onto his shoulders. Legs going around his hips. The girl was clinging onto him, and Stan could feel himself getting close faster and faster. Her grip on him made any rough movements impossible, and he was now thrusting into her in short, hard movements that were driving her up the bed. Jenna's eyes were closed, small animal noises coming from her as she tried her best to remember to breath. Stanley couldn't close his eyes, he was too amazed by the creature beneath him, the way her mouth was forming silent words, the way her breath came out in pants, how her breasts bounced with his every thrust. It was astounding to him, what he was doing to her, what she was doing to him. How she fit around him like a glove that was just a size too small.

Jenna gasped as she felt a twinge inside of her, and then the same pressure from before, building rapidly right in her core, it was too much, and he quiet moans began to grow louder and louder, towards a crescendo. "Stan," she panted, her eyes opening slowly. He was looking right at her, and it made her breath hitch. "Oh God," she pleaded "don't stop!" The man over her planted a hand on the mattress right next to her head, the other curling around her hip, and he started thrusting harder, their body slapping together like a symphony of flesh, and that pressure built faster and faster, until a scream flew through her throat. She felt her climax in every inch of her body, tearing through her like a bullet, making her into a quivering, moaning mess on the bed. She chanted his name like a mantra, and only moments after her, she felt his hips lock against hers, tickle of his ejaculation against her cervix.

"Don't stop!" She'd cried, and Stanley knew he couldn't hold on much longer. He tilted her hips so he could get in as deep as possibly, and began fucking her with all he had. His cock was straining and he forced himself to hold on until he heard her scream, and her cunt closed around him like a vice. Those walls pulsated, and he buried himself deep within them just as he blew, shooting load after load into her clean and perfect core. Oh, he knew he should have pulled out, but he couldn't, there was no way. He'd never felt it like this, the mind-blowing pleasure. And even as it ebbed, he couldn't stop the soft thrusts into her body, as he deflated. Eyes closed with his forehead resting against her's. It took a moment, but he finally managed to extract himself, and slide off on her, rolling onto his back and tucking himself back into his pants.

Stan's continued thrusts drug out Jenna's climax long after she was used to them ending, and by the time he rolled off of her, she was far gone from her mind. Satiated and very tired, she moved onto her side, tucking herself up against him with her head on his shoulder. Stanley's arm curled around her back, and he held her close. Neither of them said a word, and slowly drifted off to sleep, feeling happier and more at peace than either had felt in too long.

~O~

Jenna woke up a few hours later. The spring sunlight streamed in through the window and landed in a warm stripe across her bare midsection. She was comfortable, and so happy. The dull ache between her thighs and the stretched feeling in her core blissfully reminding her of what had happened. She could still hear his hard breaths next to her ear, and feel his weight on top of hers. It made her grin and blindly reach out for him, but she found the spot next to her cold and empty. With a pout, Jenna cracked her eye open and glanced at the clock she's seen earlier, and bolted upright, it was almost eight. "Shit!" She hissed and jumped up from the bed, pulling her t shirt back on before running out of the room. She made a dash for the dress she's left on the couch, snatching it up along with the stockings

Stanly watched as the girl ran out of his bedroom then subsequently back into it without even a glance in his direction. A look at the clock told him he'd probably let her sleep in a little too long. Stan himself had woken at around six, with his arms still full of the very naked woman. He honestly couldn't remember the last time that had happened, if it ever really had. It had been rather euphoric, but he'd found himself getting excited again, and had to detangle himself from her. He'd made coffee, and decided to just let her sleep for a while.

 _Why didn't she look at you when she came out?_ His inner voice mused, and he tried to brush it off. She was just in a hurry. He sighed, leaning back in the chair. She had come to him after all, it was torture, but he'd been fine to just hold off forever. _She got what she wanted, and now she's done._ His mind spoke, and he shook his head again. Tired of his overwhelming self doubt. He realized, of course, that he'd broken some rather severe laws last night. Not that they trumped repeated counts of first degree murder, but northern California was pretty stricts about their underage sex laws. They didn't care how close to 18 they were, they would slap you as hard as they could. Suddenly paying her under the table and allowing her to work several hours longer than child labor laws allow seemed like nothing. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, his eye snapped opened when he heard the door open, and felt his heart stop.

The dress was just as stunning on her as he knew it would be. Tight around her tiny waist, the slight pouf of the skirt exaggerating her hips. The sheer black silk on her legs was… he couldn't describe it. She looked like a pin-up goddess. Her hair was even in pin curls. "Wow…" he whispered to himself, but he must have been louder than he intended, because the girl blushed.

Jenna smiled, and smoothed out the skirt as she picked up her bookbag. "Hey," she said, looking up at him. "I…"

She watched Stan's face fall, and was instantly confused. "You regret it.. I know." He said, and she felt her heart fracture.

"Stan…" She said, touching his face. "I don't regret anything… I've never been this happy… I just wanted to let you know that I only have half days on Tuesday… so I'll be back around one…"

"Oh…" He mumbled, and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. It took him a moment, but he finally returned it. Jenna smiled against his lips, before she pulled back.

"I'll be back soon." She said softly, before turning and heading out the door. Stan couldn't help but note how adorable her boots looked with the dress.

~O~

A/N: Things start getting intense in the next chapter. I'll post again as fast as I can. I'm trying to get my Halloween fic going again.


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